


Gabriel's Earthly Delights

by kathakoito (orphan_account)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels Can Choose Their Genitalia, Blackmail, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Other, PWP, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 03:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19939252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kathakoito
Summary: Gabriel knows about Aziraphale and Crowley. And no, he is not the least bit upset. In fact, he is happy to help Aziraphale keep it a secret. But he does charge a price for his silence; he's not that much of an angel.





	Gabriel's Earthly Delights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jotunartist (DurchVerse)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DurchVerse/gifts).



Aziraphale turned when he heard the front door of his shop open. It was closed. He was sure he had put the sign up and locked the door. He had very few visitors besides Crowley who could unlock the door without any trouble, though Crowley would not have sauntered in, even if he could. He would have knocked. That only left—

“Gabriel,” Aziraphale greeted cautiously as Gabriel peeked into his study. He placed the manuscript he had been examining down; copies of papyrus fragments of Sappho’s works, some yet unseen by modern human eyes as he worked to piece them together. He dare not do this with the originals lest they crumble under his hands.

“How have you been faring so far, Aziraphale?”

“Splendid. If you need my report, I’ll fetch it for you right away.” Aziraphale made to move from behind his desk towards one of the shelves when Gabriel stood directly in front of him, blocking his path. Aziraphale stilled, nervous. “Unless you’re here for something else?”

“Something else,” Gabriel agreed. He was not as jovial as he often presented when he saw Aziraphale and it made him feel a sense of dread for what was coming.

“I know about you and Crowley. I know you've been shirking your duties here on Earth.”

Aziraphale’s entire world stilled and he braced himself for a fight as he responded. “You must be mistaken. I’ve been doing nothing of the sort.”

Gabriel reached into his coat and threw pictures onto Aziraphale’s desk, pictures of him and Crowley over the years, meeting over dinner, sitting together in a park, enjoying a stroll through the museums and conversing about centuries past. Gabriel had known for a _very_ long time.

Aziraphale swallowed nervously. He tried to read the expression on Gabriel’s face. “Gabriel, please, don't report me.”

Gabriel’s face remained impassive. “They'll burn you in hellfire for this treason, you know.”

“I know. You can’t possibly want me to die.”

“Who’s to say?” Gabriel asked, but now there was an edge of teasing in his voice. Aziraphale didn’t know where to place his own emotions at that response. He was ready to bolt away at the slightest indication that Gabriel may take him to Heaven to face justice.

“But maybe I could ignore it?” Gabriel continued thoughtfully. “You'll have to give me a reason.”

Aziraphale thought carefully. He looked around his shop wondering if there was anything here that would be of value to Gabriel.

“I don’t want a book off of this dusty little shop of yours,” Gabriel said, as if he had read Aziraphale’s mind. “But I did get acquainted recently with a human pastime that I quite enjoy.” He thumbed down Aziraphale’s coat and Aziraphale fought against his instinct to back away.

What was it that Gabriel would enjoy? Dancing? Food? Board games? Gabriel had never given any indication that Earth could give him any semblance of joy. He found all human activity to be either boring or disgusting.

“Care to take a guess?”

Aziraphale looked up at Gabriel carefully. “Target practice?”

Gabriel chuckled. “You think I like guns?”

“Sword fighting then? Still the old fashioned way?” Aziraphale asked. It was a safe guess. Angels were raised to create and destroy and Gabriel was one of the few who were very, very good at destroying. It had been him, along with Michael, to cast out half of Heaven to create Hell and the first demons.

“Oh I enjoy a good fight, yes,” Gabriel admitted. His hand moved from Aziraphale’s coat to the buttons of his shirt. He popped a button, just under Aziraphale’s bowtie. “But if I wanted to spar, you wouldn’t be my first choice. You’ve gotten a little soft staying down here.”

Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat. Oh. That was what he wanted. “Gabriel… I don’t—I haven’t.”

“Oh? Not once with your little demon boyfriend Crowley?” Gabriel asked. He was smiling, unkindly. There was an edge to it that cut Aziraphale and he recoiled as Gabriel reached for another button.

“We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“It doesn’t matter to me either way. Consorting with a demon is consorting with a demon, whether you fuck them or not.” Gabriel reached for the button again and this time Aziraphale let him. “Did he ever tell you what falling felt like? You must not have seen. They burned all the way down through the fall, and when there was nothing of them left to burn, when they thought they were dead and gone, they found themselves trapped in the nothingness of Hell. Had to build themselves a little space while recovering from all those injuries. Took them a while before they had any semblance of self.”

Aziraphale said nothing. Gabriel worked his hand down his body, slowly opening button after button and when he had worked through shirt, reached up and tugged the bowtie off. It fell with the ease of Gabriel’s miracle. Aziraphale felt short of breath.

“Must have been traumatic for him.” Gabriel said as he unzipped Aziraphale’s trousers. He placed a hand down and felt the smoothness of the skin between Aziraphale’s legs.

Angels were sexless. They could pick and choose their sex, or even opt for none at all. Aziraphale had been going on with none for thousands of years. It had occurred to him, of course, that he could fashion himself a penis to go with the rest of the male body he had chosen to present as, but he had no real use for it, so why bother?

Today, Gabriel chose for him. Aziraphale felt the change under Gabriel’s hand, happening to his own body, to the skin Gabriel could touch and beyond, within him, something growing and taking root. Gabriel had given him a female’s anatomy down there, had drawn it into existence with his own power and filled it with his fingers the moment it manifested.

Aziraphale had cried out, a novel sensation in a new body part, an invasion of his mortal body; he trembled from the shock of it. Gabriel pressed a thumb to his clit, never giving him a chance to adjust. His body ran hot, fevered, and his head was running on fumes trying to grasp the newness of it all. He was getting wet, slick running down his thighs as two fingers pressed into him and Gabriel's thumb circled around his clit. He wasn't aware of what he was saying, eyes closed, clinging to Gabriel for stability. He felt soft all over, unmoored. Like if he were to fall over, there would be no ground, just an endless falling.

Gabriel was responding to him, mumbling some encouragement, pressing a hard cock to his stomach like a promise. A third finger pressed into him and he shuddered, panting out Gabriel's name. It hurt. Did Gabriel want it to hurt? Did he care if it did?

Aziraphale considered miracling himself away. But that meant treason. He would die. And Crowley too, if Hell caught on and realized the reason Aziraphale was punished was because he consorted with Crowley. No, he would suffer it. Whatever Gabriel wanted.

He tensed as Gabriel pulled out of him, felt the emptiness where his fingers were. Gabriel miracled his trousers away and he felt the cool air, naked from the waist down. He opened his eyes and looked at Gabriel's face. Gabriel was looking at him as if he had been waiting for exactly this. He slipped his cock between Aziraphale’s lips and pushed into him slowly.

"Don't close your eyes, angel." Aziraphale’s heart jumped into his throat as Gabriel used Crowley's nickname for him. Gabriel knew even that, that most precious of details that made people do a double take on them when they heard, a constant reminder of what Crowley truly felt for him, the human endearment for “darling, dearest, beloved” cloaked in what Aziraphale was, so that Crowley could use it with and without meaning, and it was up to Aziraphale to decide if “angel” was simply “angel” and not “sweetheart, my love, mine,” the way Crowley said it. It was an affection Aziraphale hadn’t been ready to return, bastardized by Gabriel’s use of it.

"Watch me." Aziraphale watched as Gabriel entered him slowly, tensing where he felt pain, whimpering.

"Shh, relax, angel. This will hurt more if you don't let me in." There was an underlying threat there that it was still going to happen, whether Aziraphale relaxed or not.

Aziraphale took a steadying breath as Gabriel inched in, rubbing two fingers against his clit. Aziraphale moaned softly as the pleasure took his mind off of the rest of it, focusing instead on the feeling of Gabriel’s fingers on him. "It hurts at first, but we have the rest of the week to get you used to your new cunt. You might even beg more for it when we're done. You like earthly pleasures, don't you? It's why you can tolerate this place. I bet you deep down, you wanted to know what this was like. Don't you, Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale turned away, not sure how to respond.

Gabriel slid the rest of the way in and Aziraphale tried to stop thinking as Gabriel fucked into him. Tried to stop remembering the desires he had over the years, the thoughts that scared him, how Oscar had looked at him and crept a hand up his thigh in the darkness of that gentleman’s club, when he had bolstered up enough courage to speak with him. Aziraphale had smiled and patted the hand gently before softly brushing it off. A wordless but clear denial and Oscar had taken the hint. Aziraphale told himself that he didn’t regret it. Crowley, too. In that car, after 6000 years of orbiting around each other, but never fully naming what they felt, never acting beyond the confines of friendship even though there was an undercurrent of something more between them, in the midst of all of these overwhelming feelings, Aziraphale had drawn an invisible line and Crowley distanced himself accordingly.

A fool, Aziraphale thought. He was a fool. He should have indulged. He should have tried. He buried his face in Gabriel's chest and cried out, tears falling from his eyes, to the pleasure, the pain, the missed connections, to losing his first to Gabriel in this context, to the secret that three of them now shared.

Gabriel placed a hand under his thigh and lifted, fucking into him deeper and Aziraphale moaned, lost in the feeling of it, not wanting and yet _wanting_ , like Gabriel said he would.

Chasing a high, he moved against Gabriel and came with a full body shudder that had Gabriel chuckling against him, mouth pressed against his ear, saying, "Liked that, didn't you?"

And Aziraphale couldn't deny it. Not as his body shivered and shivered, as he near drooled against Gabriel’s chest because he couldn’t stop the wordless pants that escaped him. It was too much.

Gabriel started moving in him again. He hadn't come yet and Aziraphale whined, too sensitive for more. Gabriel carried on anyway, unheeding of Aziraphale gently pushing him away, asking him to slow down.

“I want you to do something for me,” Gabriel whispered as he pushed Aziraphale to sit on his table. Aziraphale complied, grateful that he no longer had to work to keep himself upright. “Call Crowley and tell him to fuck off for a week. Don’t come here. Don’t try to contact you. I want your full attention for a week and then when I go back to Heaven, I will conveniently forget what I know.”

Aziraphale nodded, hopeful that this will all be over soon.

“But don’t think this is the end of it. I just have to go back for work, angel. And then when that’s done, I’ll be coming back here for more.” Gabriel summoned Aziraphale’s phone to his desk.

Aziraphale dialled shakily as Gabriel lazily thrust into him, watching the numbers Aziraphale used, as if ascertaining that it really was Crowley on the other line.

The phone rang once and somebody immediately picked it up.

“Aziraphale?” It sounded like Crowley had just woken up.

Gabriel started fucking Aziraphale with renewed interest and Aziraphale moaned into the line. He bit on his bottom lip desperately as Crowley shuffled, sounding more alert. “Angel? Are you all right?”

“I’m all right. Just ah—please d-don’t contact me or come over for the week. Please, Crowley.”

“Did I do something wrong? Are you sure you’re all right?

“No, you’ve done nothing.” Aziraphale whimpered as Gabriel grabbed both of his thighs for leverage. “I-I'm all right. I'm fine, Crowley. A-ah! Please! I- I just don't want to see you!”

Crowley’s voice grew softer over the phone. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. I'll come over. I'll do anything you want. Dinner? We can see a play?”

“NO! DON'T COME OVER!”

Gabriel leaned in to whisper in Aziraphale’s other ear. “You got all tight there. You want your demon boyfriend to watch?”

Aziraphale turned to Gabriel, pleading softly. “Don't—please don't.”

Crowley seemed to have thought it was for him. He sounded defeated and tired. “Okay. I'm sorry angel, for whatever it is. If you want me around again, you know how to find me.” He ended the call and Aziraphale put the phone down slowly. He wondered how long it would be before Crowley would see him again. It wasn’t unlike Crowley to sleep for a century and he sounded unbearably sad. Aziraphale wished he could explain. But he didn't know a way to do it that wouldn't have Crowley making a fuss. This was a quiet way to deal with it.

“I can trap him in a little sigil while I fuck you, if you change your mind.”

Aziraphale tensed. “Stop it, Gabriel.”

“You know I won’t,” Gabriel replied as he closed his hand around Aziraphale’s throat and pushed him down to the table. “But all right. I’ll keep your precious little demon out of it. _Angel_.”

**Author's Note:**

> This started in Twitter thanks to Jotunartist (DurchVerse). Yes, I found your AO3 account. You ain't slick.


End file.
